


I know her.

by theheadgirl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheadgirl/pseuds/theheadgirl
Summary: Marinette is heartsick over her mother's hospitalization, which leads Hawkmoth to a very dangerous discovery.





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay,” Marinette says, glancing at the box of macarons in front of her, “so that's two of the strawberry, three key lime, two banana, and one each of the rose, vanilla, and caramel.” Her fingers dance across the buttons of the register. “That'll be fifteen Euro. Cash or credit?”

The customer's answer is lost in the sudden, horrible shout from behind them. Marinette whirls, ready to see an akuma or something bearing down on them, but what she does see is so, so much worse.

“Mama?”

“Sabine!” Tom drops to his knees by his wife, frantic, shaking her shoulders, trying to rouse her. She lies prone on the ground, still, pale, eyes closed. 

“Someone call an ambulance!” Marinette calls out. _Keep your head, Marinette, keep your head!_ whispers her inner voice, which sounds a lot like Tikki. “Is anyone here a doctor?”

“I'm a med student,” a young woman offers from the line. Marinette waves her forward and behind the counter, pointing to her parents. She sees another customer on their phone, calling the ambulance, and she waves to catch the attention of the last person in line.

“Please flip the sign to closed,” she calls. Thank God for Ladybug. She knows she'd be an absolute mess right now, and even now, her hands are shaking so badly she can barely pick up the dropped box of macarons. “I'm sorry, was that cash or credit?”

Honestly, she doesn't remember helping the rest of the customers in line. She's running on autopilot - pastries, money, goodbye. By the time the bell rings behind the last customer, sirens rip through the air, and Marinette hurries to the door to open it for the emergency workers.

“It's my mom,” she says, and her voice catches on a sob. “Something happened -”

The med student and Tom are still hovering over Sabine, but they back off as the EMTs rush in. Marinette sees one of them checking her mother's pulse, and she looks grim. Two other EMTs load Sabine onto a stretcher and rush out.

“Sir,” one says, “you'll be accompanying her in the ambulance?”

“We both will,” Tom says as he gets to his feet, looking at Marinette.

“There's only enough room for one other person,” the EMT replies. He checks his watch. 

Marinette makes the decision for him. “You go, Papa. I'll meet you there.” She tries to smile to reassure him but it feels awful and fake.

Tom crosses the distance between them and enfolds his daughter in a hug. “See if the Césaires can take you. I'll see you soon, sweetie.”

“See you soon, Papa.”

Tom and the EMT go out after the stretcher, and Marinette hears the car start and the sirens go off. Alone in the bakery, Marinette locks the door. Her vision grows blurry, and she sucks in a sharp breath that catches in her throat. She scrubs at her eyes ineffectively, swallowing it back. She can't call Alya if she's a hysterical mess, and if she can't call Alya, she'll have to take the Metro and that could take at least an hour, and who knows what could happen in an hour? Her mama -

Marinette shoves that thought out of her head.

Her hands shake as she gets her phone from her pocket. Luckily, Alya is speed dial 3. 

As the phone rings, Marinette forces herself to breathe, to calm down, to get herself under control for long enough to get through this call.

“Hey, girl! What's up?”

To Marinette's eternal shame, she starts to cry. 

“Netty?” Alya's tone goes from light to concerned in the course of two syllables. “What's wrong?”

“My mom,” Marinette gasps out. “She fainted or something today and she and Papa took an ambulance but there wasn't enough room for me -”

Alya, endowed with Bestie Powers, gets it. “Mom!” she hollers. “Dad! Marinette and I need a ride to the hospital; something happened to Marinette's mom!”

Marinette sniffles. “Alya, you don't have to go -”

“You're not doing this alone,” Alya replies. “I was just watching YouTube videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir anyway. You're not interrupting anything.”

“Thanks.”

“Be there soon.”

 

Tom meets them in the emergency room. He still looks worried, but not devastated, so Marinette guesses things are stable, which is better than worse. 

“How is she?” Marinette asks.

“She regained consciousness on the ride over, but the doctors still aren't sure what happened.”

Alya glances at Marinette, and she knows they're both wondering the same thing, even if they're too scared to ask.

_Will she be okay?_

They take seats in the emergency room, and Alya manages to wheedle the Wi-Fi password out of a staffer. She pulls her earbuds out of her purse and places one in her own ear and holds the other one out to Marinette.

“What's this for?” she asks.

Alya smiles. “May as well pick up where I left off, right?”

Marinette looks at Tom, who gives her a reassuring smile.

“Don't you worry about me, girls.”

Marinette takes the other earbud and puts it in her ear, snuggling as close to Alya as she can. Alya's “Ladybug” playlist on YouTube seems to comprise of every single video out there. Marinette doesn't even remember all of them, and the ones she does, it's very weird to see them from another perspective.

 

It's closing in on midnight with no news, and Tom sighs heavily.

“Girls, there's no need for you to stay here when you've got school tomorrow. Alya, would it be all right if Marinette stayed with you tonight?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Dupain.” She excuses herself to call her mother for a ride home. 

“No, I can't!” Marinette protests. “I'm not leaving you and Mama here -”

“You'll do your mama more good by going with Alya, getting some sleep, and not making yourself sick,” Tom points out, gentle. “I'm going to need your help around the bakery.”

A doctor appears at the door to the waiting room. “Mr. Dupain? Ms. Cheng is asking for you.”

“Papa-” Marinette catches his arm. “Let me know how Mama is. Okay?”

“Of course, sweetie.” He hugs his daughter and presses a kiss to her head. “Sleep well.”

Marinette watches him leave the room and thinks she'll be lucky to sleep at all. She wipes her eyes on the back of her hand and waits for Alya.

 

Marinette must fall asleep eventually (how, she doesn't know; it feels like she's been tossing and turning for hours) because the next thing she's aware of is Alya's alarm going off.

“Up and at ‘em,” Alya says through a huge yawn. She reaches for her glasses and gets them settled on her nose, blinking to adjust her eyes. “You might actually get to school on time today.”

Marinette grabs her phone off the nightstand, turning on the screen for any shred of news. No calls, no voicemails, no texts. She sighs and drops back onto the bed.

“No news is good news, right?” Alya asks. “Nothing's worse.”

“Or everything is worse and Papa hasn't been able to call because he and the hospital staff are desperately struggling to keep Mama alive,” Marinette answers. She sniffles.

The other bed creaks and she hears footsteps, then there's a weight on the side of her bed.

“Listen, drama queen,” Alya says, firm but not without warmth, “your mom is going to be fine.” She gives one of Marinette's pigtails a tug. “Get up, Mom's making sausages.”

In the end, it takes pancakes, sausage, and the promise of a warm shower to get Marinette out of bed in a timely manner, and the girls are on the way to school with a surprising amount of time to spare.

“I didn't even know 7:00 AM existed,” Marinette says, and Alya laughs. 

“Welcome to it,” she replies. “Maybe you'll see more of it in the future now that you're aware of it.”

“Don't push it,” Marinette teases. Her phone buzzes in her purse and she immediately pulls it out.

“Anything?” 

Marinette drops her phone back in her purse, careful not to knock Tikki with it. “Just Nathaniel in the group text. He lost his Prismacolors.”

Alya gets her own phone out and sees the message herself. “Aren't those the really expensive colored pencils?”

“Yeah, I hope he finds them.” Still nothing. It's been seven hours. Surely something must have happened in seven hours? Unless - oh my God, what if something happened to her papa too? Her brain is all too happy to populate the details of her devoted papa sitting at her mother's bedside, then getting up for whatever reason, and tripping and falling and dashing his head open and he's bleeding and screaming and his phone is in his pocket, no one thinking to call her -

“Netty!” The tone of Alya's voice says this isn't the first time she's tried to get Marinette's attention. “Girl! You okay? You just totally spaced.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Fine.” Marinette blinks hard, trying to fight back the tears. “I'm fine.”

“No news is good news,” Alya reminds her, and gives her hand a squeeze. Marinette tries to smile in response but it comes out as more of a grimace. They walk the rest of the way in silence, Marinette still clutching Alya's hand.

 

The morning's classes are fine. Marinette's hands itch to check her phone, and she does sneak a peek a couple of times. Still nothing. The waiting is driving her crazy. There must be _something_ happening. No news may be good news, but after a while no news must mean something bad. Maybe something did happen to her father, or something happened to her mother and her father just hasn’t been able to tell her. After school, she'll go visit. Visual confirmation, even if it confirms the worst, is better than this endless silence and waiting. 

At lunch, Chloé blocks Marinette's way out of the classroom.

“You look terrible,” she says. “Way more than usual.”

“Not today, Chloé,” Marinette says, moving to push past her. Chloé moves to block that escape, too.

“No, really. I've got to know your secrets. How did you walk out of your house this morning like that? Did your mother not notice?”

Marinette's eyes fill with tears, and she shoves past Chloé hard, footsteps echoing off the stairs as she runs out. 

“Her mom's in the hospital,” Alya spits, glowering at the blonde. “Keep a civil tongue in your head.”

Chloé tosses her hair. “What, am I psychic? Come on, Sabrina.” Picking up her phone, the two girls leave as well. 

Nino makes a face at her back as he and Adrien gather their things. The blond frowns a little and reaches over the desk.

“Marinette left her phone,” Adrien says. He picks it up and, suddenly, the screen lights as it starts to buzz wildly. “Whoa, what -”

Alya snatches it out of his hands. “It's texts from her dad.” At least twenty of them, all timestamped throughout the night. The last one appears on the screen, stamped about five minutes previous. 

_Mama's fine. She was dehydrated. We're going home now. Turns out the hospital room was a dead zone so my texts didn't go through. We didn't mean to worry you._

Alya hisses in frustration and shoves the phone in her pocket, then takes off after her friend.

 

On the other side of Paris, a rose window unfurls, a circle of sunlight illuminating a dark room filled with butterflies. 

“Hmmm,” Hawkmoth says, gazing thoughtfully out the window. “A sweet young lady, worried about her mother and feeling abandoned by her father, pushed too far by her classmate.” He chuckles, softly. Chloé Bourgeois is a gift. 

Holding out a hand, a butterfly flutters into his palm, and he cups his hands around it, channeling his dark energy into it. He releases it, and it takes off through the window.

“Now go, my little akuma, and evilize her!”

The butterfly flies through the Paris buildings and eventually makes its way to the park across from the high school. It finds Marinette, curled up in a ball of misery, sobbing into her folded arms and clutching a hanky in one clenched fist. Spotting the easiest point of entry, the akuma lands on the handkerchief and infects it, but then it stops. 

“What are you doing?” Hawkmoth asks, though of course it can't answer. “Evilize her!” He gives it a mental push, and that's when he feels it, too. 

Something is blocking him.

He pushes the akuma again, but it's like flying against a wall. Another push, harder this time, with the same result.

“Try her bracelet,” he tells the akuma. A thought is germinating, but he has to be sure. 

The butterfly pulls out of the hanky and lands on her bracelet. Just as before, the bracelet is easily infected - but that's where it stops. 

Hawkmoth feels his breath coming faster. It can't be. She's just a girl. 

A girl he can't akumatize.

“Try her earrings.”

If he's right, it will kill the akuma.

But if he's right …

Mindlessly obedient, the akuma pulls out of the bracelet and flies up to the girl's earrings. They are small, plain black studs. 

He feels it the instant it happens. A sharp, hot shock of pain across his cheekbone, like a bullet grazing him, as the akuma explodes on contact with the ladybug Miraculous.

He starts to laugh.

This girl, crying in the park because one of her classmates teased her, is one of the only things standing between him and what he wants more than anything in the world. This girl has been a constant headache, defeating his akumas time and time again. This girl. Ladybug.

The best part is, he recognizes her. 

One of Adrien's classmates, one of the kids who flooded in on Christmas after he akumatized that old man. 

“Dark wings fall.” The transformation drops, leaving Gabriel Agreste in its wake, Nooroo fluttering anxiously around him.

“Gabriel -”

“Not now, Nooroo.” He holds open his jacket in a silent order and Nooroo flies into the inside pocket. Every step he takes out of his lair and to Adrien's room is faster, until he's nearly running. 

Inside, Adrien’s room is as neat as ever, dotted with trophies and accolades, but -

There. On his desk, in pride of place. The class picture. Gabriel snatches it up, scanning each face until he sees her. Back row, dead center, next to Adrien. He flips it over, finding the names listed on the back.

_Adrien Agreste._

__

__

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng._

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he murmurs, relishing it. “Ladybug.” 

He sets the picture down, and he smiles.


	2. watch the butterfly, see where it goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkmoth's plans to ensnare Marinette (whom he now knows is Ladybug) form.

“Marinette! MARINETTE!” Alya stops in the middle of the clearing, clutching a stitch in her side. It's not that she's out of shape, but this is a lot more running and yelling than she usually does. “Marinette!” 

God, what if she can't find her in time? What if she's already been akumatized? She feels sick. Is this what it was like for Marinette when it happened to her? 

The mental image of Marinette's bluebell eyes dulled by the purple glow of Hawkmoth’s influence flashes across her mind's eye. Alya's stomach lurches. No. No way. 

She hears something. Whirling, she scans the area and - there! Curled up under a tree, a brokenhearted little form. 

Alya pauses, then starts walking towards the other girl, careful to make her footsteps clearly audible. She kneels next to Marinette, and spots an odd grey dust on her friend's shoulder. She frowns a little and brushes it off.

“Netty?” Gentle, slow. “You left your phone in the classroom. Your dad -”

Marinette looks up, eyes red and swollen. “What about my dad?” Her voice wavers.

“He's fine. Your mom, too. He said your mom's room was a dead zone so his texts never made it through.” Alya shifts to pull Marinette's phone from her back pocket and holds it out to her. Marinette takes it and unlocks it, scrolling slowly through the texts that have appeared. 

_Your mother doesn't like the orange juice here._

_The doctor says it's dehydration. He's going to keep your mother in for a little longer._

_We love you!_

This text has an attachment: Marinette's parents crowded on Sabine’s hospital bed, Sabine resting against Tom's chest, and both of them beaming at the camera. Marinette lets out a watery laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“That was so scary,” she says.

“It was scary looking for you too,” Alya says, settling in against the other girl. “I was worried you'd be akumatized. What if I found you and you were tearing trees out of the ground?”

“Maybe Hawkmoth is taking the day off. Or maybe I'm just not an interesting target.”

“Fine by me.” Alya glances at her friend. “Do you want to head back now?”

Marinette shakes her head. “Let's stay here a little longer.”

Ever the pragmatist, Alya pulls a bag of crackers out of her purse. If they're going to be here for a little while, she's not going without lunch. 

 

It's amazing, when one has just a name, how simple it is to find an entire life online. It hadn't even taken accessing government databases, just patience and a search engine.

Tom Dupain was born in France to an Italian mother and a French father. His father had passed away when he was young, and his mother now ran a blog chronicling her travels around the world - including, Gabriel notices, a trip to France where she leaves out being akumatized.

Sabine Cheng had immigrated to France as a young woman and worked in a number of hotels, gaining a name for herself. Eventually, she met and married Tom, and they opened their bakery. They had their first and only child, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who - much like any other teenager - splashed her life across social media. 

There's Facebook, a Tumblr, and an Instagram feed filled with pictures of friends, the city, and fashion designs. The girl has a talent, Gabriel has to admit. It's too bad he has to destroy her; otherwise he might have offered her a job.

Hm.

Actually …

Closing the browser, Gabriel presses a button on the desk to buzz Nathalie.

“Sir?”

“Nathalie, when does Françoise Dupont let out for the summer break?”

Silence for a moment, punctuated by the tapping of Nathalie’s fingers against the keyboard. “July 23, sir.”

“Thank you.”

He ends the connection and steeples his fingers.

This will take careful maneuvering, but he can taste the hint of victory at the back of his throat. He is so close.

 

Madame Bustier allows Marinette to leave school early to see her mother, and grudgingly allows Alya to accompany her. Unlike this morning, Marinette is practically dragging Alya down the street, clutching her fingertips, and despite her longer stride, Alya is almost running to keep up. 

Marinette nearly drops her house keys and then puts the key in upside down. She quickly rights it and unlocks the door, throwing the door open and rushing in, leaving her keys dangling from the lock. Alya plucks them out and follows Marinette in, closing the door behind them. 

“MAMA!” There's an instant - then the inevitable lunge stops, hesitating, balanced on her tiptoes. Sabine smiles and holds out her arms, and Marinette flings herself into her mother's embrace. “Mama! Oh my gosh, I was so scared! Are you okay? It's not gonna happen again, is it? Do I have to take over the bakery now? Should I graduate high school first?”

Tom laughs, and Sabine holds her daughter more tightly. “I don't know if I can answer all those questions, sweetie. But I'm okay, and as long as I don't forget to drink water for a day, it shouldn't happen again. Don't plan on taking over the bakery quite yet.”

Tom steps over to take Alya's hands in his. Just one of them envelops both of hers. “Thank you, Alya,” he says, and the smile lighting his face is broad and genuine. “You and your family really came through for us last night. Thank you for being there for Marinette.”

Alya catches Marinette's eye, and Marinette beams at her. She can’t help but beam back. 

“That's what I'm here for.”

 

There's no akuma attack that day, or the next. It's a nice break, but one that has the hair standing up on the back of Marinette's neck. She doesn't trust it. First Hawkmoth doesn't come for her when she's emotionally vulnerable (though perhaps she's building herself up too much? People are upset in Paris every day; surely all of them don't get akumatized) and now he's lying low for three days? Either something's gone wrong or he's building up to something big.

It turns out to unfortunately be the latter.

“He's calling himself The Ghostmaster,” Nadia says on the TV. “Our viewers are strongly encouraged to stay inside, as his touch can do this.” She gestures and the camera follows her to the window overlooking a Paris street. Where it would normally be bustling with activity, it is now unnaturally silent. The people are still there, but drifting, quiet, covered in white sheets like a child's rendition of a ghost. 

“I guess it was too much to hope that he'd left town,” Marinette says to Tikki.

Tikki smiles. “The only way is to kick him out!”

“You're right about that. Tikki, spots on!”

Ladybug launches herself out of the skylight, taking off from the railing of the balcony. Nestled among the flowers, unnoticed by the superheroine, a black and purple butterfly watches her go. It flies out of the flowerpot, and seems almost satisfied as it dives through the open skylight and into the room below.

Chat Noir is already there, watching the streets below with a furrowed brow. Ladybug lands next to him.

“Anything?” The silence is so complete that she whispers without thinking about it. 

“I can't find him,” Chat whispers back. They watch the silently drifting figures, all moving together towards … something.

“They're all moving in the same direction,” Ladybug murmurs. “Have you checked that out?”

“I wanted to wait for the purr-ittiest bug in town,” Chat returns, and Ladybug rolls her eyes. 

Even the zip of her yoyo and the soft tap of Chat’s baton echoes in the quiet like gunshots, and Ladybug winces every time, checking over the edge of the roof to see if any of the ghosts have noticed. It's like they're not even there, though.

“Why are they ignoring us?” she asks Chat. “Aren't ghosts supposed to go after people?”

“If they're a vengeful spirit, sure,” Chat replies. “But these seem to be more like shades - just stuck in the loop of a memory of the place. They don't interact with people.”

“Ghost expert _and_ superhero?”

Chat winks. “I think you'll find I know about all things purr-anormal.”

“I -” Ladybug shakes her head. “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.”

“Can't unhear what's been heard!” Chat returns. 

Finally, they get ahead of the crowd of ghosts, overlooking the Arc d’Triomphe. Slowly, slowly, the ghosts are congregating in semicircular rows, and standing, watching. It is deeply unnerving to see so many figures standing so, so still. 

“Waiting for something?” Chat murmurs. 

“Yeah, but what?” Ladybug whispers. 

“The guests of honor, of course,” says a voice behind them. Ladybug lets out a rather un-superhero-like squeak and Chat’s baton is in his hand as they whirl to face their uninvited guest. He is very tall and very thin, pearlescent white, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and resting his hands lightly on a cane. His eyes glow like blue flames and the expression on his face is less ‘smile’ and more ‘rictus.’ “We ghosts know that Ladybug and Chat Noir are the life of the party.”

Ladybug's eyes sweep over him, scanning for potential akuma hiding places. The cane, maybe the hat, there's an earring - 

“What an honor!” Chat Noir says. “It sounds like it'll be a spirited gathering!”

Ladybug makes a decision. She is not going to stand here and let people pun around her. 

“Sorry, I think we'll have to pass,” she says. “Your party sounds kinda dead, anyway.”

Okay, maybe one more. 

Fast, she zips her yoyo out and wraps it around the Ghostmaster’s wrists, tugging his hands together hard. “What do you think, Ch - aaah!”

With a sharp flick of his hands, the Ghostmaster yanks Ladybug off balance and she windmills, trying to regain her footing. She falls hard and the Ghostmaster throws himself at her, grabbing for her earrings. His skin is cold and clammy, even through her suit, and she rolls away, trying to avoid skin on skin contact. 

“That's not very nice!” Suddenly, between them, Chat’s baton appears, catching the Ghostmaster on the end. He stops it precisely at the edge of the roof. The cane clatters to the ground and Ladybug grabs it, snapping it in two. The akuma flutters out and Ladybug grins. 

“No more evil-doing for you! Time to de-evilize!” She easily catches it in her yoyo and purifies it, releasing the pure white butterfly into the sky. “Bye bye, little butterfly!”

Chat Noir holds out his fist and Ladybug bumps hers against it, glancing over her shoulder to see who the Ghostmaster really was. It's a young man, maybe a year or two older than them, looking extremely confused. A look down at the street shows that the ghosts are once again people, trying to figure out how they got to the Arc d’Triomphe. 

Ladybug feels another tiny, selfish jot of relief that Hawkmoth hadn't gone after her. Hard for Ladybug to use her Miraculous Cure when she's the one who caused it all.

 

Later that day, in her room, Marinette sits on her desk chair, frowning at a ruffle on the gown she's designing that refuses to draw correctly. Obviously the problem isn't with her, it's with the stupid ruffle. Her computer lets out a little ding! to let her know she has an email. Grateful for the distraction, Marinette sets her sketchbook down and reaches for her mouse.

“Shouldn't you finish that sketch first?” Tikki asks. 

“It's not going anywhere,” Marinette replies, pulling up her email. “Besides, this might be impo- OH MY GOD.”

Tikki flies up next to Marinette to see her screen, and the email she's pointing to with a shaking finger. 

The subject line is “Internship Opportunity,” and it's from agreste@gabriel.com.

 

Lit by the glow from his monitor, Gabriel smirks, re-reading the email he had just sent to Miss Dupain-Cheng.

_Miss Dupain-Cheng,_

_I would like to offer you an internship at Gabriel this summer. You showed remarkable talent during the haberdashery design competition I hosted at Françoise Dupont last year, and I feel that with time and guidance, you could be truly great. Please allow me this opportunity to take you under my wing. Respond at your earliest convenience, but no later than July 20th._

_Yours sincerely,  
Gabriel Agreste_

It all has the ring of truth, because all of it is true. She does have talent, and she really could be great. He's just leaving out one of his true aims.

It only seems like seconds later that an envelope icon pops up in the lower right hand corner of his computer monitor, and he has a response from “Marinette [tulip emoji]”. 

_Mr. Agreste,_

_I would be honored! This is such an amazing opportunity. I have admired your work for years and am very, very excited to see how things work. Thank you so much for thinking of me._

_Sincerely,  
Marinette Dupain-Cheng_

Gabriel sits back in his chair and starts to chuckle. He smothers it with his hand before it can get too “evil villain” and instead rereads the email, unable to hold back his smile.

“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’ said the butterfly to the bug,” he murmurs, and he swallows, and he tastes victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess this happened. This is going to be four parts total, and thank you to everyone who took the time to kudos and comment! A big shout-out to Saccha, who wrote an amazing spin-off story to this 'verse too! :) Check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666458


	3. look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette starts her internship at Gabriel Design. The web begins to tighten.

“What do you think?” Marinette asks, rushing out of her close. Her attempt at striking a pose is undermined by the slightly frantic look on her face.

“You look great,” Alya says, because she does. This particular combination is a black pencil skirt with a pink blouse with bell sleeves - very simple but sophisticated.

Marinette throws her hands into the air. “You've said that about every single outfit! It's not helping! This is for my first day at Gabriel Designs! I have to look perfect or else -” She gasps. “Or else Mr. Agreste won't be impressed with me and he'll fire me and tell Adrien how terrible I am and then Adrien will never love me and we'll never get married and have our beautiful babies and -”

Alya gets off the bed and grabs Marinette by the shoulders, forcing the other girl to look her in the eyes.

“You look great,” she repeats, emphasizing each word. “You have looked great in every outfit. Which one have you felt best in?”

Marinette opens her mouth, then closes it. She frowns a little as she considers Alya's words. 

“Wait, I know!” She throws off Alya's hands and runs back into the closet. There is an alarming amount of banging and crashing before she reappears in the pink blouse, black cigarette pants, and a pair of low wedge sandals.

“That's it!” Alya says. “You've got this, girl. He'd have to be an idiot not to recognize what a gem he's got.”

Marinette beams at her, and every second of this has been worth it just for that.

 

The next morning, outside of the Agreste mansion, Marinette stops stock-still, overwhelmed.

“Tikki,” she whispers, voice barely a squeak, “I can't…”

“You can!” Tikki says from inside her purse. “You can do this, Marinette!”

“But what if -”

“Nothing in there,” Tikki gestures towards the mansion, “can even come close to what you've already done! Don't forget who you are!”

Marinette nods, grabbing the strap of her purse. “You're right! I've handled way worse than this!”

Full of confidence, she strides up to the front door and rings the bell. Adrien's bodyguard opens the door and gestures her in with a grunt. He indicates she should stay there and goes off.

“So far so good,” Marinette whispers.

“Marinette?” says a horribly familiar voice. With that one word, the confidence collapses into a pile of blocks. She whirls, eyes wide as she comes face-to-face with Adrien Agreste.

“I'm Marinette!” she blurts out, and her face goes into a stretched parody of a grin. 

Adrien smiles. “I know. It's nice to see you. What brings you here?”

“I'm, I, you, here, your dad, um.” Marinette lets the nonsense trail off and stands there, dying inside. 

“My dad?” Adrien echoes, then lights up. “Oh, the internship, right? That's awesome!”

Thankfully, they are rescued by the appearance of Gabriel himself, escorted by the Gorilla. 

“Good morning,” he says. “Thank you for your timeliness, Miss Dupain-Cheng. We'll go to the offices now.”

“Good luck, Marinette!” Adrien calls. Tongue-tied in the presence of her crush and her idol, she can only manage a thumbs-up in response. 

Once they arrive at Gabriel corporate headquarters, Gabriel gestures to one of his assistants, a young man named Marc. 

“Marc, this is Miss Dupain-Cheng, the young lady I had you set up an itinerary for. Marinette, Marc will be overseeing your internship. If he says it, you may be assured I stand behind it. Good morning.” 

He nods to them and strides off to his office. On the outside, he is as calm and assured as always, but inwardly, he is roiling. 

He had been notified of Marinette's arrival as soon as she had passed through the front gates, and he had watched her progress on the CCTV. Once Adrien arrived, he realized that even superheroes have a weakness.

_Ladybug is in love with his son._

There seems to be so much he can do with this information that he feels full to bursting with just the knowledge of it. Of course putting Adrien in danger is out of the question, but if Ladybug doesn't _know_ that Adrien isn't in actual danger …

He swallows the laughter that wants to bubble out. Finding Ladybug has made him happier than he's been since his Emilie vanished.

_Soon, Emilie_ , he thinks. _Soon_.

 

The keyword for an internship at Gabriel Designs is “exhausting.” Marc has decided that in Marinette's two months with the company, she is going to learn about every single aspect of the fashion design industry. This is, in theory, a very good idea. It makes for a more thoughtful designer when she knows precisely what, for instance, the guy who hangs the lights is doing. 

It also means Marinette's head is spinning at the end of every day, the pages of her little pink notebook covered with an increasingly untidy scrawl as she tries to keep up with everything Marc and everyone at Gabriel is telling her. There's very much a culture of “once should be enough” at the company - efficiency is at the core of Gabriel's success. For someone just starting out, though, and trying to copy down the rapid-fire instructions of, say, a photographer showing the best filters and tools in Photoshop to clean up shots and put the models at their best advantage, it is overwhelming.

Of course, it is also at 5:00 sharp, just as Gabriel Designs corporate is closing its doors for the day, that Hawkmoth always decides to attack.

“Bad timing,” Marinette says the first time it happens.

“Oh, come on!” she says after the tenth. She ducks into an alleyway, out of sight of the terrified Parisians fleeing the most recent akuma attack. “Tikki, spots on!” She pulls her yoyo from her waist and throws it around the chimney of the building next door, hauling herself up.

Inside Gabriel's corporate office, Nathalie watches Ladybug take off though the CCTV camera. She then taps a few keys, deleting the last minute of footage from the Gabriel system, and exhales. 

 

“He's been really consistent lately,” Chat Noir says on a Friday night patrol. The akuma attacks happen like clockwork during the workweek, Monday through Thursday, nothing on Friday, and then at more random times during the weekend. 

“Yeah, it's weird,” Ladybug replies. “It's like he's working around someone's schedule.” Like he's working around _my_ schedule, she thinks but doesn't say. It's impossible to miss that the new schedule of attacks has lined up with her time at Gabriel.

“Maybe Hawkmoth got a job,” Chat Noir suggests. “Do you think he goes to work in the super suit?”

Ladybug laughs. “Someone cuts him off for the coffee machine in the morning and they get back to their desk and it's just covered in butterflies.”

“‘Hey, Hawkmoth, can I borrow a pen?’ ‘You may borrow YOUR DOOM!’”

“‘You look familiar. Do I know you?’ ‘Perhaps you recognize me from my akumatizing spree, I'm very well-known.’”

“Now we just have to figure out who ends their day at five, and we'll have him,” Chat Noir says.

“Yeah, I'm sure narrowing it down to all of Paris will really help.”

 

So it continues, day after day after day. The Ladybug powers give her a little bit of a boost when she's transformed, so she's at least able to push through the fights, but there's no such cheat for Marinette. 

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng!” Marc barks.

Marinette snaps to attention. Had she zoned out? When had she stopped paying attention? What had he even been saying? “Sorry?” She tries her most charming smile, but it bounces off Marc like he's wearing charm-repellent armor. 

“This is an opportunity most aspiring designers would kill for,” he reminds her. “ _Listen._ ”

Marinette nods, cheeks burning. 

“You'll start off modeling today,” Marc repeats. “It's highly unlikely that any of your shots will make it to print, but it's essential for a designer to know how models feel and work within her designs.”

“Sorry? Modeling?”

“Did I stutter?” Marc says. He gestures to one of the makeup artists. “Jeanette, she'll be working on the Fall/Winter collection. Take her away.”

Jeanette smiles at her, and Marinette follows, not sure if that feeling in her stomach is excitement or terror.

Forty-five minutes later, Jeanette finally lets her up out of the chair, where she's immediately grabbed by Léo for wardrobe. What follows is such a flurry of activity and clothes and snaps and buttons that Marinette can only think, stretchy fabrics. Stretchy, non-wrinkle fabrics.

Finally, Léo takes her to the soundstage for the shoot. Of course it's August in France outside, but inside, the Gabriel team of set designers have created a park in miniature, leaves a riot of color. There's even a stream with a footbridge.

“Wait on the bridge,” Léo tells her. “The other model will be here soon.”

“Thanks, Léo,” Marinette says, and he gives her shoulder a fond squeeze before leaving. Marinette goes to the little bridge and leans against the railing. It's amazing - she can almost believe she's actually in a little park in the fall, here in her beautiful Gabriel camel-colored wool coat and brown scarf and gloves, a red skirt peeking out from underneath, and tall brown boots.

“Marinette!”

She freezes.

Dressed in a navy blue peacoat with charcoal slacks and black shoes, grey gloves in one hand, and a huge grin on his face, Adrien looks absolutely stunning.

Weakly, she raises a hand.

“Claudette said I'd be working with a new model for this shoot but she didn't say it would be you!” Adrien prattles on, oblivious as always. “It's always so good to work with a friend, don't you think? We're going to have so much fun!”

Ugh, _friend_.

“Um,” is all that Marinette can really get out, but that's apparently enough for Adrien to take as agreement. He joins her on the little bridge, and she fancies she can feel the heat of his body even through the respectful distance he's put between them. 

“So what else has Father had you doing during your internship?” he asks.

“I, um, er, well, that, uh, lots of, you know, stuff,” Marinette manages, which is kind of like a full sentence.

“He usually has the interns focus on one or two areas,” Adrien continues. “What's that been for you?”

Something pings in the back of Marinette's mind. 

“Everywhere,” she says. 

Adrien looks surprised. “Really? Wow, he must think you have a lot of potential!”

Oh! Right. Of course. That makes so much more sense. She's just being silly; overtired, there's no way that _that_ -

Right?

Right.

Some of it must leak through onto her face, because Adrien touches her arm, gentle. “Are you okay? You just looked really concerned all of a sudden.”

“What? Huh? Me? Oh!” Marinette tries to look normal, but her smile is probably slightly too manic to quite get there. “No, I was just, you know. If your dad thinks I have so much potential, I hope I can live up to it.”

Adrien beams. “He doesn’t do that to just anyone, so he knows you can.”

That something still _itches_ at the back of Marinette’s head, though, even as the photographer, who gruffly introduces himself as Dario, gets set up and ready for the shoot.

“You’re in love!” he yells at his models. “You are young and beautiful and in love in Paris in the fall! Let me see it!”

Adrien, grinning, catches Marinette around the waist, spinning her to look at him. She doesn’t have to fake the lovesick look that takes up residence on her face, and the camera - everything - seems to fall away as they laugh, and spin, hold hands. When Adrien leans in and impulsively presses his lips to her forehead, Marinette thinks she might actually combust. She can feel her cheeks burning, and she lowers her head, grinning like a fool.

“That is enough for today!” Dario calls, and the moment breaks, and Marinette and Adrien step apart. Marinette’s cheeks are still burning, but she can’t stop smiling. He’s smiling too, and her heart is pounding so hard she thinks it must be visible even through her coat. “Girl! You’re back tomorrow!”

Marinette, startled, looks at Dario. “Oh, no, I’m just an intern, sir; I’m sure Marc won’t -”

“Marc!” Dario says, dismissive. “You’re back tomorrow. I will make sure of it.” 

Léo steps up from the sidelines to get her back to wardrobe, and Adrien waves goodbye as she leaves. Marinette is sure she does something with her hand, but judging by the way Léo catches her wrist and forces it back down to her side, it’s not actually a wave.

“Subtle,” he says to her, and she giggles.

Gabriel steps out of the doorway where he had been watching the shoot, watching Marinette and Adrien go in opposite directions. 

“They shoot well together, don’t they?” he says to Dario.

“Amazing,” Dario agrees, focused on the files in his camera, clicking through. Each picture is beautiful, two young people completely caught up in each other, and happening to be fabulously dressed while doing so.

So. Ladybug is in love with his son, and if he doesn’t miss his guess, his son is in love with Ladybug as well.

This just got significantly more complicated … but far, _far_ more interesting.


	4. oceans rise, empires fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkmoth makes his final move.

“If your dad thinks I have so much potential, I hope I can live up to it,” Marinette's recorded voice says. Gabriel taps the corner of the screen to pause the playback, then pinches it to zoom in on her ear. Her earrings - plain black studs - catch the light, mocking him. 

_We are right here. Come and get us._

He taps the screen again, and the video resumes, still zoomed in on Marinette's ear. 

“He doesn’t do that to just anyone, so he knows you can,” Adrien says, off-camera. His boy, so optimistic. Of course Adrien would have no idea - how could he possibly suspect? Wear Ladybug down during the day, then launch an akuma attack as soon as she left for the day. Leave her exhausted, chipping away at her. 

Oh, she's got potential, all right. Potential to bring him that much closer to his final goal. 

“Father?” The real Adrien, stepping into his study, hovering awkwardly at the door frame. “You wanted to see me?”

Gabriel taps the screen again, swiping the image off the screen. 

“Come in, Adrien,” he says, bringing up another folder. “I wanted to talk to you about your friend Marinette. She's acquitting herself quite well here, but I'd like to know more about her.”

Adrien smiles like he doesn't mean to. “I mean, I don't know if I'd be the best person to talk to about her; you really should talk to Alya Césaire about her, she's her best friend -”

The _Ladyblogger_ is her best friend?

“Miss Césaire isn't here, though, and you are,” Gabriel replies, letting a bite of his impatience show through. “I'm interested in _your_ opinion, Adrien.”

The clear undertone being, don't make me regret it.

“Oh. Well, everyone likes her; she's nice to everyone and I don't think anyone could really say anything mean about her - except Chloé, I guess, but that's Chloé…”

Gabriel hmms and nods his way through Adrien's gushing about the girl he clearly doesn't realize he's in love with, and he takes notes, and he plans.

 

It happens, finally, during a nightly patrol on what Ladybug and Chat Noir have started calling “Hawkmoth’s Night Out.” Chat, in particular, has created an entire evening itinerary for Hawkmoth that includes karaoke in the super suit. 

Although Fridays have been quiet during the summer, they still patrol, just in case. Chat bounds ahead, and Ladybug sends her yoyo around a chimney on the next roof, but as she goes to take the jump, her foot catches on the edge of the building and she slips. Surprised, she lets go of the yoyo for a split second, and that's enough time for her to tip off the edge. 

Chat glances back just in time to see her fall.

“Milady? MILADY!” He runs back at top speed, extending his baton in an attempt to catch her. He's suddenly yanked forward by extra weight on the end, and he adjusts his footing to account for her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” The ruefulness in her voice means she's probably not hurt, anyway. Chat retracts the baton as he reaches the edge of the roof, pulling Ladybug back up. 

“What happened?” he asks once she's firmly back on the roof. 

“I lost my footing,” Ladybug replies. She glances back - a moment of inattention, the yoyo string just centimeters away from her grasping fingers, then the rushing of wind and the terror that had crackled up her spine. “Thanks for having my back, Kitty. Not all of us have nine lives.”

“You can always count on me to _cat_ ch you, milady,” Chat says with a roguish smile. Ladybug rolls her eyes and grabs her yoyo, using it to zip ahead of him. 

Chat watches her, but the grin fades into concern. They've been fighting crime for a few years now, and his lady has always been surefooted and steady. This - this scares him.

“You coming?” Ladybug calls back, already two roofs ahead.

“Try and stop me!” he calls, and runs to catch up.

 

It's _all over_ YouTube the next morning.

“OMG!! LADYBUG FALLS!” blares the original video title. The description continues, “Ladybug falls off a roof! Chat Noir saves her!” A search of ‘ladybug fall’ brings up no less than seventy reaction videos, then another six trying to diagnose Ladybug with a drinking problem, twenty swooning over Chat Noir’s quick thinking, fifteen positing that this is various steps of Hawkmoth’s evil plan, and one video of an actual ladybug falling off a flower. 

Marinette rests her head on her knees. 

“I hate the internet,” she whines.

“You could close the window,” Tikki says. 

“That's not gonna stop the videos from being there,” Marinette points out. She starts up. “Oh, no, do you think the Ladyblog -”

Of course it does. 

There's a frame-by-frame breakdown, with Alya's own analysis. 

“I'm worried about Ladybug,” Alya finishes on her video. “I don't think any of us have missed Hawkmoth’s new akuma schedule, and it feels…” She screws up her face, thinking. “It feels specific. Be careful, Ladybug. All of Paris is with you.”

Marinette smiles despite herself, and clicks the button to rewind ten seconds. 

“All of Paris is with you.”

“Thanks, Alya,” she murmurs, and maybe that's enough to keep her going.

 

“Marc?” Nathalie appears in the doorway of the studio. “I need to borrow Miss Dupain-Cheng. Mr. Agreste wants to see her.”

Marc checks his watch. Marinette sees his lips tighten slightly - it's nearly five, and on her last day. 

“It's for her evaluation,” Nathalie continues. With a sigh, Marc nods.

“It's been a delight, Marinette. I have a lot of faith in you. You're going to be great.” He smiles, then sticks out his hand to shake.

“Thank you, Marc. I've really appreciated working with you.” She takes his hand, and they shake. 

Nathalie gestures for Marinette to follow her, but instead of heading up to Mr. Agreste’s office, she leads her down to the street. 

“Where are we going?” Marinette asks.

Nathalie glances at her. “Mr. Agreste has asked to have your evaluation at his residence.”

“Oh. Okay.” That seems weird, but Marinette isn't sure how to ask, _uh, why?_ without coming off as disrespectful, and she doesn't want to blow this on the last day.

As though sensing her question, Nathalie continues, “Mr. Agreste thought the more relaxed setting would allow for an informal tone. He wants to hear about your experience at Gabriel, too.” She reaches out and opens the car door. The driver sits behind the steering wheel, nodding to Marinette as she and Nathalie get in the back seat. 

The ride is silent and mercifully short. Marinette keeps fidgeting, her fingers plucking at the fabric of her skirt. Something has her on edge - something more than just the evaluation. Something isn't sitting right in her head. Maybe she's just tired, but maybe …

The car stops in front of the Agreste mansion, and the gates pull apart to allow the car in. The driver gets the doors for them, and they go into the imposing residence. 

She can't help it, and glances around for Adrien, half hopeful, half terrified.

“Adrien isn't here,” Nathalie says, and Marinette flushes at being caught out. In front of the doors to Gabriel's office, Nathalie stops and turns to Marinette.

“Good luck,” she says. “Mr. Agreste has many layers. We are all with you.” She smiles, barely more than a flash of teeth, then knocks on the door and leaves.

Marinette stares after her, and that Something grows, an uncomfortable prickle at the back of her head. 

_We are all with you._

It could be coincidence that Nathalie paraphrased Alya's sign-off from the latest Ladyblog posting. Or it could not be.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, come in.” Gabriel gestures for her to step through the door. 

_Don't do it!_

No. She's overtired and stressed, reading too much into small gestures and words. It's just nerves about an evaluation. That's all.

She walks into the study. Gabriel closes the door behind her.

There is the unmistakable _snikt_ of a lock clicking in place.

“Mr. Agreste?” Marinette asks, hoping her tone is mildly curious and polite.

“A security precaution,” Gabriel replies. He gestures to the chair in front of his desk as he passes by it. “Please, have a seat.”

She does. She keeps her legs away from the legs of the chair and her wrists from the arms. 

When she looks up, Gabriel has resumed his seat behind the desk, watching her thoughtfully.

“So, Miss Dupain-Cheng, how has your experience at Gabriel been? I hope it has been educational?”

“Oh, yes!” That, at least, she can enthusiastically confirm. “It's been an amazing learning experience! Only doing what I do - the designing and the sewing - I never would have thought about all the other steps that go into a finished product. I'm so grateful that I had the chance to learn at Gabriel.”

Gabriel nods, smiling a little. Marinette relaxes a fraction. Of course she'd been overthinking it.

“Marc has been compiling reports for me about your daily progress,” he says, clicking on his mouse. “He's been very pleased with your work and your attitude. I think he's been sufficiently charmed.” He goes on to state Marinette's strengths (eagerness, quick learning, friendliness) and weaknesses (lack of confidence, easily distracted) and offers suggestions as to how she can overcome those.

“In my initial contact to you,” he continues, “I told you that I saw your talent in the haberdashery design competition I hosted, and that's true. However, that wasn't when I realized how truly extraordinary you were.”

“Really? I mean, wow, thank you!” Marinette laughs, more than a little self-conscious.

Gabriel smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. 

“No, that was the day your mother fell ill.”

A shot of adrenaline shoots down Marinette's spine, wrapping around her stomach with iron fingers.

“I'm sorry?”

“Adrien told me about it. You ran out of class after Chloé said something cruel to you, and you cried in the park. You felt abandoned by your father and used by your classmate, didn't you?” He continues, not giving her a chance to reply - not that she'd have been able to respond around the growing horror tightening in her throat. “Your distress and despair were like a searchlight, calling to me. I found you that day. But here's something interesting, Marinette. Those of us who possess Miraculous gems can't be akumatized, for good or for ill. The magic of the Miraculous repels it.”

Gabriel smiles, and Marinette sees the tinge of victory - and madness.

“So when I saw you, so upset about your family, I knew I had to have you. There aren't many children in your class that I haven't targeted, so I thought I'd try something new. But I couldn't. You resisted.” He leans forward. “Or, more specifically, the Ladybug Miraculous resisted.”

There's no point in playing dumb. “But _you_ were akumatized.”

A shrug, one shouldered and elegant. “We all have our secrets, Marinette. And now, you have a choice.

“Give me the Ladybug Miraculous and you walk out of here a free woman. You've written, on your Tumblr, how you'd like to study at Parsons, in America. A big dream for a daughter of two bakers.”

He's read her _Tumblr_.

“But I can help you. I know the president of Parsons. With the right words from me, you get generous scholarships, maybe even a full ride. A flat in New York. Then, when you come back to Paris, you step directly into a position here at Gabriel. No grunt work, no starting at the bottom. A job at one of the most prestigious fashion houses in Paris, yours, guaranteed.

“Oh, and …” He pauses, as though he's about to present her with the greatest treat. “Of course, a girl who's studied at Parsons and works for Gabriel would be an ideal match for my son.”

Marinette feels sick. Her idol, the man she's looked up to for as long as she can remember, who she's aspired to emulate …

“And if I don't?” Her voice is steady, defiant. If he thinks she can be bought with scholarships (and _Adrien_ , a small, pained part of her brain whimpers, _Adrien_ whose _father_ is -), then he doesn't know her at all.

He turns one of his monitors around. The screen is a Google street view… of Alya's apartment. Marinette swallows hard.

“There are many people out there who love you, Marinette,” Gabriel says. His eyes burn behind his glasses. “How long do you think you can keep them all safe?”

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette asks. “Why do you want the Miraculous so badly?”

“To possess the powers of creation and destruction is to change reality,” Gabriel replies. “To get a wish.”

His eyes flick, as though they don't mean to, to a framed picture on the wall. A beautiful young woman in sunshine, with Adrien's green eyes.

Marinette's heart falls into her stomach. Adrien’s mother. Something had happened, and Gabriel was single-mindedly pursuing the one thing that could change it. 

For a moment, she almost considers it. Even without the bribe, to make Adrien so happy, to reunite a family, wouldn't that be worth it? 

_No!_ says the inner voice that sounds like Tikki. _Don't forget what he's done in pursuit of this wish. And there's no guarantee he'll stop - or even wish for what you think he will._

“Sorry.” Marinette stands up. “This interview is over.”

“You can't leave.” His voice cracks like a whip, and his chair hits the back wall of his office as he shoves it back. He pushes aside his tie. “Dark wings, rise!”

“Tikki, spots on!”

 

Nothing is out of place when Adrien comes home from Nino’s. He'd been surprised, and absolutely delighted, when his father had actually encouraged him to go see a movie with his best friend and then spend some time at the Lahiffes’. Maybe he was coming around to this whole “life outside the compound” thing. 

He is home a little earlier than he'd expected, though. Nino had had to take his brother to swim practice, so they'd left after dinner, and Adrien had decided to go home instead of hang out there. Maybe he'll watch a couple of episodes of that new anime before he goes to bed, or -

Upstairs, something explodes. 

Across the stairs, there's a blast of white dust and wall chips, and then Ladybug appears. Her face is white with plaster dust, and the blood on her face stands out, stark and bright. She spins her yoyo so it's a blur of motion, then runs back behind the wall. 

“ _Ladybug_?” If his lady is here, that can only mean one thing. Something's happened to his father.

She reappears at the top of the stairs, wide-eyed with shock. Standing still, he can see that the blood is from a nasty cut over her eyebrow.

 _How?_ he thinks, panicked. _The suits protect us -_

“Adrien, you need to get out of here now,” she says, fast. “It's not safe. Your dad -”

“What about my father?” Adrien interrupts, heart pounding so hard against his chest he feels dizzy. 

She glances aside, then back to him. “Your dad is Hawkmoth. Get out! Go!” She runs back, leaving Adrien alone with the shattered pieces of his world at his feet. 

_Your dad is Hawkmoth._

It's impossible. His father was akumatized. That meant Hawkmoth must have targeted him, and you can't target yourself -

\- unless you're trying to divert suspicion from yourself. Unless you know that someone else will guess that the person in possession of the Miraculous spellbook might be Hawkmoth. Unless you're trying to make sure no one uncovers your secret. 

He's so _stupid_.

Adrien doesn't even realize he's crying until he blinks and the tears spill down his cheeks. He scrubs his arm roughly over his eyes. He can cry later. Right now, he's got to help his lady.

Plagg flies out of his shirt. Sometimes it's hard to read his expression, but right now, the grief on his face is unmistakable. 

“Kid -”

“Not now,” Adrien says, and his voice cracks. “Plagg, claws out!”

A moment later, Chat Noir stands, chest heaving, hands curled tightly into fists. He swallows, forcing down everything but the rage. That, at least, he can use. With a wild, feral noise, he runs into the fray.

 

Hawkmoth is pinned to the floor, trapped by Ladybug’s lucky charm. Ladybug steps forward, her jaw set.

“No more evil-doing for you,” she spits. “Bye bye, little butterfly.” She grabs the tie pin and yanks it off. Chat can't help but gasp as the transformation drops.

It's Gabriel Agreste.

Of course he hadn't had any reason to suspect Ladybug had lied to him, but seeing it - his father's face, the ugly hatred twisting his features. 

“I suppose you've won,” Gabriel says. “But you know I still know who you are behind that mask, don't you -” He inhales, then presses his lips together. Chat Noir glances at Ladybug. Her gaze is icy, and if she's scared, she doesn't show it. 

“...Ladybug?”

Ladybug scoffs. She slides open her yoyo, activating the phone, pressing some buttons on it.

“Police? This is Ladybug.” She twirls the Butterfly miraculous between her fingers, and Chat sees his father's eyes follow it. He feels ill. “We have Hawkmoth contained. He's all yours.”

She slides the phone closed, then looks at Chat Noir. “You okay, Kitty?”

“Fine.” It springs to his lips before he can stop it. He's not fine. He'll never be fine again. His _father_ is - was - Hawkmoth. 

“Answer me one thing,” he says, stepping shoulder to shoulder with Ladybug. “Did you akumatize yourself? Why?”

“That's two things,” Gabriel replies, and he smiles, just a little. “We all have our secrets.”

“The police will be here soon,” Ladybug says. “Do you remember how we got up here, Chat? Can you show them up?”

“Yeah, I will.” He looks at his father one more time, then vanishes from the room, unable to bear it any longer.

“Marinette?” Hearing him say her name sends shivers of disgust down her spine. She ignores him. “ _Marinette_. I know you can hear me. My son, Adrien -” He pauses. “I don't want him to see me like this.”

“He was here earlier.” She doesn't mean to answer him, but she can't stop herself. “I told him to get out. I'm sure he's far away from here.”

Gabriel chuckles, but there's no humor in it. “You know he's in love with you.”

“Shut up.”

“I knew he was in love with Ladybug, but I'm certain he is when you're Marinette, too. I wonder how he'll feel when he finds out you're the one who orphaned him.” His voice drops. “Because you figured it out, didn't you? Why I wanted the wish?”

Chat Noir reappears with the police. “There he is,” he tells Chief Raincomprix. 

“You're certain?” the chief asks Ladybug. She holds up the Butterfly miraculous.

“Absolutely,” she replies. 

The police gather Gabriel up and bundle him out, but he has one more gift to give before he leaves. As he passes by Ladybug and Chat Noir, he leans over and hisses, soft, so only they can hear,

“Goodbye, Marinette.”

Chat Noir stiffens in surprise. Ladybug, without a word, takes off through the window. Gabriel smiles, and lets the police lead him away without a struggle. 

 

“Is it true?” Chat Noir demands a night later, landing next to Ladybug on the rooftop, where she’s sitting, legs dangling over the edge, hands holding onto the eaves. 

“Is what true?” Her voice is resigned, like she’s been expecting this question, but she’s still going to put up some token resistance.

“What m -” He stops himself. “Hawkmoth said yesterday, when the police were taking him out. He said, ‘Goodbye, Marinette.’ Did he really know your identity?”

“He would have said anything to try and get a rise out of us,” Ladybug says. She doesn’t look at him. 

“You don’t just pull the name Marinette out of a hat.” 

“Whatever you're asking, Kitty, just ask it.” She looks up at him, and he realizes that she's tired. Defeating Hawkmoth took a lot out of her, too.

“Is your real name Marinette?” he asks, and he doesn't like how sad he sounds. If she is Marinette, he's not sad about that. He's just … sad. 

She looks away. “Yes.”

He sits next to her on the rooftop, and when he puts his hand on top of hers, she doesn't move it away.

“Good.” A pause. “I like knowing that Ladybug is sitting behind me in class. Makes me feel safe.”

She looks over sharply. “What?”

“And whatever you did in the line of duty,” he continues, “whoever's father you had to bring to justice, I don't hold it against you. Hawkmoth’s actions were his own. He's the only one to blame. You were keeping Paris safe.”

She exhales. “Thank you.”

They sit in silence, his hand on hers, until she shifts her hand so she's holding his, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's that! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through this journey. It's been so much fun to write - I've already got my next Miraculous fic lined up; it's just a question of writing it!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been mulling over this idea since we saw that Gabriel had to disavow Nooroo before he could akumatize himself. This is just a one-shot for now, but I have further ideas in this universe, so we'll see.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Comes After](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666458) by [Saccha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccha/pseuds/Saccha)




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